Keep You
by frakkingblerg
Summary: Sharon's been doing just fine for the past 3 months, sort of. (the artist formally known as 'the incredible machine')


_Now I can't laugh, can't cry  
And I can't run, can't hide  
You get used to the pain  
And numb to the sting  
'Til you can't feel anything_

_You tried to explain, but I couldn't hear it  
As if your words were my tears  
Flowin' freely, warm and quiet  
From the edges of my eyes, in my ears  
Than all that disappears_

**_'Keep You', Sugarland_**

It had been a few months since Sharon and the blonde had parted ways. Well, 3 months, 12 days, and about 19ish hours…not that anyone was counting. At first, the brunette hadn't thought she would make it through. Every breath felt too difficult, but things had gotten easier as the weeks went on. Maybe not easier, but she'd learn to cope and hide behind that Captain Raydor façade. Thankfully, Brenda and her team had kept their guns holstered for that first month, the Captain wouldn't have been able to keep it together if she'd had to investigate. Only recently had she allowed herself to become involved in anything that had to do with Major Crimes. It had been easy to assign Sergeant Elliot when she'd felt too vulnerable, feigning some sort of imaginary task that couldn't wait. And now the time had come to jump back in completely, she could no longer hide behind her subordinates. Pope had asked for his standard bi-annual transparency audit of their most recent cases, and Sharon was the only team member with enough rank to view their files.

Clipping into the murder room, Sharon immediately noticed the blonde huddled around Provenza's desk. She took a moment to silently observe the younger woman, deep in conversation, and felt her heart flutter. Even after 3 months of zero contact, the Chief still took her breath away. Clearing her throat, the blonde looked up, obviously displeased by the older woman's presence.

"Cap'n Raydor, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" Brenda couldn't hide the irritation in her voice, unsure of why the brunette had finally decided to reappear from the depths of FID.

"Chief Pope requested his usual bi-annual audit, so if I could just get a copy of your files from the last six months I'll be out…"

"Fine – I'll have Lieutenant Tao help you find whatever it is you need. He'll set you up in the conference room," snipped the Chief before looking back down at the photos, motioning for Provenza to continue.

Sitting at the conference table, Sharon couldn't help but let her mind wander back to the time when they were together, and happy. They had spent countless long nights at this very table, eating, laughing, just enjoying each other's company before heading back to whatever investigation they were working. This room had also seen its fair share of disagreements, which were almost always settled once the two women got home. As often as they fought at work, their life together outside the office was blissfully uneventful. In fact, Brenda had fit seamlessly into the older woman's life almost immediately. If only walls could talk, maybe they could fill her in on what went wrong, why she hadn't been good enough for that blonde.

Glancing up through the open blinds, she noticed the Chief's already thin frame seemed smaller. Had she lost weight? Those big brown eyes also looked incredibly exhausted, more so than usual. She wondered if Brenda was okay. Almost immediately she stopped herself, the blonde was no longer her concern. They had broken up and things could never go back to the way they were. Brenda had made her choice, refusing to admit to her parents why Sharon was such an integral part of her life. And the brunette had no interest in keeping their relationship closeted, especially after she had introduced the Chief to her own family and dealt with all the questions and concerns. It had felt incredible, finally being honest with her children and mother, she couldn't understand why the younger woman didn't want the same. And Sharon would not pretend to be someone she wasn't, she wouldn't live with the guilt of lying to Willie Rae and Clay, putting on a show that the two women were merely 'roommates.'

Later that evening, in the privacy of her own bedroom, Sharon once again allowed the memories to come flooding back. While she thought of the blonde often, more often than she probably should, she couldn't stay rooted in the past. The Captain still had things to live for and there was no use replaying what had once been, especially when all it ever brought her was heartache. But today had scared her, Brenda just looked unwell. And as much as she tried not to care, she still loved the Chief. So for a moment, she would revisit their past in hopes of soothing her growing concern. Getting out of bed, she headed for her walk in, reaching up to the top shelf and retrieving that ridiculous floral box Brenda had given her. The box really hadn't been the present, but it had reminded Sharon so much of the younger woman that she'd kept it, using it to store all their memories. Well, any memory that could fit in a rather ostentatious floral scrapbooking box.

Settling down on the floor, Sharon opened the container and examined the contents. A variety of pictures, both candid and posed, taken mostly by each other or friends throughout their time together. The brunette couldn't help but chuckle at one of their first photo's during a bar night out with Major Crimes. After Tao had gotten a good shot of the two, Provenza had casually remarked something like 'now show us how you really feel about each other'. Sharon had proceeded to roll her eyes, in typical Captain Raydor fashion, while Brenda had merely stuck out her tongue at the other woman. Unbeknownst to them, Tao had managed to capture that moment as well. When he had produced the photo for them days later, the blonde had joked that they should send it out in their Christmas card that year. Also inside the box were ticket stubs from movies and events they'd attended and copies of playful emails they had exchanged, PG rated of course (they were from work accounts, after all). Now near the bottom of the box, Sharon saw the one thing that kept her from perusing the contents too often. It was a simple, white envelope, addressed to 'Brenda Leigh'.

Sharon sighed as she pulled out the two typed notes, one written in desperation soon after the break up, attempting to get the blonde to change her mind, the other written once things had settled and the Captain was just plain mad. Initially, she had wanted to write them by hand. But each time she sat down, the tears would start and almost immediately her words would become unreadable, ink flowing together as the drops hit the page. She had finally resigned herself to typing them, just in case she would actually one day give them to the blonde. Unfolding the paper, she glanced down at the first letter, the one she had written within the first week. It was a pretty standard plea for the blonde to come home. The second was more detailed, recounting all the ways in which Sharon felt she had been wronged during the relationship. Accusing Brenda of trying to turn her into something she wasn't. The brunette had never planned on sending them, not really, each one had helped her process her feelings at that moment. By writing things down, she somehow felt less burdened by what she had kept inside.

Sharon's phone rang, pulling her out of the memories and firmly back to reality. There could only be one person calling her this late, although she thought he'd still be working. Dashing for her phone, she made a mental note to clean up the closet, eventually.

"Hey you, I thought you weren't getting out of the office until later," husked the older woman.

"My last client cancelled. Apparently she decided her marriage was worth fighting for…Are you free this evening? You want to maybe grab a drink?"

"Of course. I can meet you at McGarvey's in an hour?" Sharon smiled. It was nice to have someone who wanted to be with her, especially when she was feeling lonely.

"Sounds good. See you then, beautiful."

George Marshall, Esquire, had been waltzing in and out of Sharon Raydor's life since a few years after her divorce. More often than not, he fulfilled a basic need. They casually dated when they were both single and had recently reconnected, each coping with the break up of a serious relationship. Leaning on each other for support, their casual get togethers had developed into something a little more than just occasional sex. Sharon knew it wouldn't last, but it was nice to feel desired again. George had recently confessed that he loved the brunette, always had, but never felt good enough for her. And while the Captain had feigned flattery, it had stung, just a little, to know that the person who she really wanted to hear those words from was no longer in the picture. She was still loveable, just not to one Brenda Leigh Johnson.

Sharon immediately spotted George as she entered the bar. He was sitting in their usual booth, toward the back, which allowed for a decent amount of privacy during busier nights. Rising as she walked over, he planted a light kiss on her cheek before motioning for her to sit.

"I went ahead and got you the usual, I hope that's okay," smiled the older man as he took a rather large swig of whiskey.

"Thanks," responded the brunette, swirling the ice cubes in her glass before taking a sip. Vodka soda, perfect.

"So how was your day, baby?" Sharon practically spit out her drink at his casual use of the word 'baby.' No one had called her that since Brenda Leigh, and suddenly this felt wrong, she felt wrong. George must have sensed her discomfort and immediately attempted to calm her nerves

"I'm sorry, did I do something to upset you?"

"No, George, I'm fine. I'm just suddenly feeling rather warm. I think I need to step outside for a minute," responded the brunette, fanning herself to appear overheated.

"I can come with you –"

"No, that won't be necessary. I just need a minute, I'll be fine," Sharon lied, before getting up and heading out the door. Once outside, she walked down the block, away from the crowd and leaned against the brick wall. Resting her head, she tried to calm her racing thoughts, stifling the tears. After all this time, she'd gotten used to the pain. It had gone from agonizing to almost bearable, a dull ache she constantly carried. For the most part, she was able to keep herself from completely drowning, between work and her family. But after today, all those feelings had resurfaced and she was spinning, completely out of control. And no man's, or woman's, love would make her feel as perfect as Brenda did. It was comforting to know she could still be adored, but also bittersweet. One day, far in the future, maybe the blonde would realize what she'd let slip away. Sharon would never go back, never pretend she was someone else. But it would be nice to hear 'I'm sorry', to see Brenda shed at least a few tears for what had been lost.

Wiping furiously at her eyes, she took a calming breath, smoothed her hair, and clipped into the bar. At 58 years old, it was time to pick herself up by the bootstraps and move on. She needed to prove to herself (and if she was being honest, Brenda) that the world would keep turning and that she could find happiness. Maybe George was the one, or maybe this was just a fling. Regardless, they needed each other, if only to ease the pain.

"Sharon, are you okay?" questioned the older man, standing to meet the brunette.

"I'm feeling better, thanks. How about we get out of here? Maybe go back to my place?" Sharon smirked, before grabbing his hand and squeezing.

"Sounds great. I'll meet you there in 15? I have an early meeting, so I'll need my car."

"Perfect, I'll see you in a bit," whispered the Captain, before planting a light kiss on George's lips. Leaving the bar, she finally felt that things were looking up. Today had been difficult, but she was more than capable of pushing through. Getting into her Jetta, she heard that rather obnoxious chirp of her Blackberry, signaling a new text message. Surely George hadn't gotten lost? Maybe it was from one of the girls, although they would most likely call if it were something important at this hour. Unlocking the screen, she stared, willing herself not to open the message. The brunette was able to firmly resist for about 10 seconds before she caved.

_From: Brenda Leigh_

_I need to see you._

Sharon reread the text, hoping to decipher exactly why that blonde would want to see her. It wasn't like they were friends and, bi-annual report aside, they didn't have any open cases together. Obviously this was about today. But honestly, the Captain wasn't interested in rehashing anything. She had meant what she'd told herself, outside the bar. Sharon Raydor needed to move on, not dwell in what could have been. Taking a deep breath, she typed, hoping Brenda would just leave her alone, once and for all.

_To: Brenda Leigh_

_After over 3 months of no contact, now you want to see me? No – you made your choice. You need to stop doing this to me, I have to move on._

That hadn't been nearly as hard as Sharon expected. Making a mental note to change Brenda's name in her phone to something a bit more professional, she started the car and headed home. Pulling into the driveway, she was not prepared for the scene in front of her. George had parked in his usual spot on her street. Directly behind him, however, was that Crown Vic she hadn't seen in months. Neither had moved from their cars, both waiting for the brunette before making a move.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," sighed the brunette, head dropping onto the steering wheel. Obviously, she was going to have to make a choice, this wasn't really a party for three.

Exiting her car, she headed for George's Lexus. Knowing the blonde, she would never leave. And while Sharon wasn't particularly interested in dealing with the fight that was looming around the corner, it wasn't fair to George. He had been nothing but sweet, he didn't deserve to get mixed up in the mess that was slowly becoming Sharon Raydor's life, again.

"Sharon, what's going on?" inquired the older man as he got out of the car, more than a little confused as to why another woman was parked directly behind him. If he didn't know any better, he would say she looked up his plate numbers while they'd been waiting for the Captain.

"Look George, I'm sorry. We're going to have to reschedule. Something came up with work and…"

"It's fine, I understand. I'll call you tomorrow," George smiled, before planting a rather passionate kiss on Sharon's lips.

Almost as soon as the kiss began, the brunette heard a car door slam and Brenda, not so subtly, cleared her throat. Rolling her eyes, the Captain separated herself from the man, waving as got into the vehicle and drove off.

"Shar, who was that?"

"You need to leave," hissed the older woman, heading toward her front door.

"I need to talk to you, please. And I'm not leavin' till you hear me out," Brenda replied, attempting to keep up with the Captain.

Unlocking the deadbolt, Sharon motioned for the blonde to enter. While her neighbors were open to all sorts of lifestyles, they were not so forgiving of late night screaming matches in anyone's front yard. And all they needed was a visit from the LAPD at this hour over a possible domestic dispute.

"What's left to say, Brenda?" Sharon was trying her best to stay calm, she wouldn't let the blonde see her fall apart. Rubbing her head, she looked over at the younger woman who appeared to have been crying. She needed a drink, or five, to get through this. Clipping into the kitchen, she felt the blonde follow close behind. She grabbed a bottle of Chardonnay from the refrigerator and poured a rather generous amount into the stemware. Brenda settled into a chair on the opposite side of the island.

"Aren't you gonna offer me some?" questioned the blonde, brown eyes meeting green.

"Well, offering you wine would mean I actually wanted to you be here, which isn't the case. There is nothing left to say, Brenda. So why don't you just go home and let me be," complained the Captain, before taking a large swig of her drink.

"I miss you," Brenda whispered, extending her hand to touch Sharon's.

"Don't, please. I've been doing fine without you, I'm moving on. I need you to do the same."

"I'm sorry, I know I messed everything up. And then today when I saw you, you looked okay. I guess I was hopin' you would feel as bad as I do," Brenda responded before rounding the corner of the island, invading Sharon's personal space.

"I do feel bad, sometimes. But it was never going to work and you've got to accept that." The brunette took a step back, attempting to create some distance between them.

"I can't," confessed the blonde, looking down as she began to cry.

As much as Sharon had hoped for the moment, when the blonde realized what she'd lost, it didn't feel nearly as extraordinary as she'd imagined. Surprisingly it hurt more, seeing Brenda broken and alone. And the Captain found herself presented with yet another choice this evening. While they could never get back together, at least not anytime in the foreseeable future, Brenda obviously needed someone. She wasn't doing well, if her small frame and sunken eyes were any indication. Perhaps Sharon could put her pride aside, for a moment, and be there for the Chief, just until things got better. As Brenda's crying turned into a heaving sob, the brunette wrapped her in a fierce hug. She felt the younger woman relax into the embrace and after a few minutes, the tears subsided.

"I told them," whispered the blonde, looking up to meet Sharon's gaze.

"Wait, what? When?"

"Three months ago." Sharon was sure her jaw actually hit the floor. For three months, Willie Rae and Clay Johnson had known. Brenda had still told them, even though they'd broken up. And the worst part, Sharon hadn't been there for her. She knew the blonde's parents weren't the most open-minded, she couldn't imagine how hard that must have been, especially without the woman you loved by your side.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sharon hugged the blonde tighter, suddenly overwhelmed by Brenda's confession.

"I tried. Every time I went to write you an email, or come by your house, I just couldn't go through with it. I knew how much you hated me, for makin' you pretend we weren't together. I guess I was scared that once I told you, you still might not give us another chance. And then I would really have to face losin' you, forever."

"I never hated you, how could I? I may have hated what you did, but not you," murmured the brunette as she placed a light kiss on Brenda's temple. Sharon could feel the walls coming down, the one's she'd constructed to keep the Chief out once things had ended. Eventually, they'd have to talk about this, about everything that had happened. But at this moment, all the brunette could think about was sleep. The last 12 hours had been emotionally draining, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. And maybe, Brenda would want to stay too.

"Let's go to bed," breathed the Captain, as she headed for the stairs. Sharon's heart dropped when the blonde didn't immediately follow, maybe she'd misjudged what the blonde had tried to say. Turning back to the Chief, she couldn't help but smile. Brenda looked positively giddy at the proposition, wide grin across her face.

"Are you sure you want me to stay?"

"Of course. But no funny business, I just want to sleep," clarified the brunette.

Sharon gave the younger woman an extra t-shirt to sleep in and they fell into bed, noses practically touching, limbs tangled together.

"This feels nice," whispered the blonde, before brushing their lips together for a quick kiss. Sharon hummed in response.

"So what are we gonna do about everything?"

"Hmm. Why don't we not worry about that now? Let's just see what happens," Sharon murmured, kissing Brenda's nose.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you, too. Now, can we please go to sleep?" Sharon planted a final kiss on Brenda's lips, then snuggled into her chest. For the first time in a long time (3 months, 13 days, and 5ish hours, to be exact), the brunette knew she would sleep well.

_A/N: This was probably one of the more frightening stories for me to take on. Mostly because this is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard, and I wanted to do it justice. Between the layered meaning and the incredibly powerful bridge, it's just epic. That being said, anyone interested in a continuation? Or should I just let it be? I'm on the fence, so I've left it open to be continued. As always, thanks for the support and comments, suggestions, etc are welcomed and encouraged! xoxo_


End file.
